Tongue in Cheek
by Freaking Cage
Summary: Derek hates kissing. But he does like other things.


Derek didn't like kissing on the mouth. Sure he was human, and he really did his best to keep his wolf under control, but sometimes sex and animalistic behavior just went together.

But it wasn't appreciated by all of his lovers.

He distinctly remembered one time when Stiles was in the kitchen making coffee. Derek hated coffee, the smell was too bitter and the sugar Stiles used to mask that flavor only added to the mass cornucopia of smells to cause Derek a headache. But Stiles liked it, something about his mom making a cup every day but just leaving it somewhere in the house, cold and forgotten, it had stuck with Stiles and he carried on the tradition.

Derek understood that smell was a powerful tool to stay connected to those long buried, and so he tolerated it.

Stiles had his back to him, and Derek quietly appreciated the small triangle-shaped back with the two dimples above his ass. He liked those dimples.

He watched as Stiles took the small measuring spoon and took out two scoops of coffee grinds, plopping them haphazardly into the old coffee maker Derek had found at some Goodwill store. Again, Derek hated coffee and Stiles never bothered longing for the finer material objects in life, if his crappy Jeep was anything to go by.

He was muttering to himself, attempting a beat box it sounded like, and Derek mentally rolled his eyes when Stiles' high-pitched try at a record scratch broke his pitch. Stiles moved to the beat of his inner Dubstep and tapped his foot, and shook his hips. Derek followed the dimples of his back and he felt his stomach grow hot from the hormones and adrenaline picking up in his bloodstream.

Damn if he didn't like those dimples.

Without thinking, Derek came up behind Stiles and grabbed his hips, pulling him back toward his own and dropped his head to meet the large tendon between Stiles' neck and shoulders. With his tongue as flat as he could make it, he dragged it along the base of his throat to the top of his ear and nearly clipped Stiles' lobe with his teeth before the boy in question elbowed him in the gut and spun around to meet his molester.

"The fuck, man?" Stiles cried out, backing away from Derek and into the corner of the kitchen counter. "Want to warn me before you get all, puppy picked up from the pound, on me?"

He flailed his arms a bit and tried to wipe off the saliva with his shoulder, apparently not wanting to get his hands dirty with werewolf spit.

Derek ignored the comments, like he did about 99 percent of the time Stiles was in his company, and reached for the kid with the stupid buzz cut. He grabbed his arms and pulled Stiles toward him again, this time licking the side of his face. Stiles struggled beneath him, not happy with the way events were unfolding.

"Dude, Derek, this is dis_gust_ing," he whined. "Do I need to get the spray bottle out?"

Derek paused to give Stiles a look of utter distain and loathing. Stiles raised his eyebrows quickly and tucked his head back a bit, intimidated by the Alpha's gaze.

He jutted his chin out a bit and cocked his head to the side before saying, "Yeah? Well, seriously. You're being fucking gross. I know where you put that tongue last and I don't want that shit on my face, okay?"

Derek paused, not giving Stiles an inch to move as he pressed his hips harder into the shit-for-brains kid. Stiles made a noise of discomfort but kept quiet, giving Derek a moment's peace.

The Derek remembered where his mouth had been last, and bared his teeth into an uncharacteristic like grin. He dropped to his knees and unzipped Stiles' jeans, took out his dick and covered it with his mouth.

Beneath him Stiles made a squeak of surprise, which quickly changed into moans. If a moan could speak, the ones Stiles was making cried, "Mary Mother of God thank you for this wet orifice, 'cause it's making me high as fuck right now." Derek hated it when Stiles talked, but he liked it when Stiles made noises.

Almost as much as the dimples.

Derek stroked the base of his penis and licked the tip, using a bit of teeth just once, just to make Stiles jump (and slap him on the back of his head for freaking him out - teeth on dick was never a good thing, especially when the teeth had two large canines that could rip a phonebook in half).

Stiles, ever the inexperienced, came in his mouth after about two minutes and Derek sucked him off for another 30 seconds, just for good measure. He rose back up and learned forward putting him nose to nose with a panting Stiles.

"What was it you were saying about my mouth again?" Derek asked Stiles.

Stiles was still breathing harshly as he sniffed in what was left of his dignity. Not even able to reply, he just shook his head erratically and make a high-sounding sigh as a response.

Derek flipped up the corner of his mouth in a half-second grin before walking away and leaving Stiles to his revolting Starbucks concoction of beans, milk and sugar.

Yep, he hated kissing. But sucking dick was something he would never get tired of.

END

* * *

And such is my contribution to this pairing. I honestly had no idea this pairing existed before yesterday, but after watching the last few episodes of Season Two after a week marathon of Teen Wolf, I can definitely see the tension between the two. I might do a few more vignettes for these two, so if you likes this one, keep your eyes open for more.

I own nothing of Teen Wolf, but if you give me $1 million and a carton of mayonnaise, there's no telling what could happen.

Freak in the Cage


End file.
